


Appreciation

by perculious



Category: Harry Potter - Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-02
Updated: 2010-01-02
Packaged: 2017-10-05 16:49:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/43880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/perculious/pseuds/perculious
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Albus has been having some strange feelings, so he talks to his best friend about it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Appreciation

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written as a gift for sillyshy for hp_nextgen_fest.

By the time Albus was sixteen, he had known Scorpius Malfoy for five years.

They'd met on the train in Albus' first year. Albus had been curious about the little blond boy who was the source of so much parental banter, and Scorpius had been... well, at first, Scorpius had been rather quiet and surly. But Albus hadn't minded. By the end of the train ride, Scorpius was detailing his plans for improved magical cleaning substances. Albus was calculating the many advantages of having a smart friend.

Albus had been disappointed when Scorpius was Sorted into Ravenclaw instead of Slytherin, the House he did choose after all, but five years later they were still close, which was why he was worried.

It started small. When Scorpius got up from their breakfast table (the Ravenclaw table, that week), a shaft of light came down from the ceiling and suddenly caught him in profile. His hair glowed white, and his pale skin lit like snow on a sunny day. Albus suddenly caught how delicate that profile was. The straight, even nose above the ski slope crest of a beautiful lip. The cheekbones. The hint of gray in the side view of his eye.

Albus swallowed.

"Are you coming, Al?" Scorpius said, and suddenly it was gone. Scorpius was his everyday friend again.

"Yeah," Albus said, and hurried after him.

It happened again in History of Magic. Albus, bored, was trying to get Scorpius' attention. Scorpius rarely wanted to slack off in class with Albus, which was a shame, because Albus always had so many ideas of things to do that would be more fun than class. He poked Scorpius in the side. Scorpius deliberately continued looking ahead, and wrote another line of notes.

This continued for several iterations, until finally Albus took out his new Exploding Snap deck and placed it on Scorpius' desk. Scorpius turned a card over uncertainly, and saw that it was decorated with Albus' father's face. He turned to look at Albus in surprise.

"I know," Albus whispered. "A deck of cards, I ask you. Disgusting, isn't it?"

Scorpius' disapproving mouth twisted into a smile, and Albus felt it again. Something about that smile, and the fact that Albus had brought it out. It made him feel lightheaded.

Scorpius turned back to his notes, and Albus felt normal again.

Albus didn't understand it, and he didn't like it, and the only thing he could think to do about it was talk to Scorpius. After all, Scorpius was his best friend. They had always been able to talk to each other about anything. Scorpius had been very helpful in the past, like in second year when Albus asked him what a Horcrux was, and Scorpius mocked him for a full twenty minutes before leading him to the relevant section of the library. Or in third year when Albus didn't get onto the Quidditch team and told Scorpius what James had said about it, and the next day Scorpius and James got into a shouting match in the hallway, and Albus was annoyed but secretly pleased. Or in fifth year when Albus came to Scorpius and complained that Rose had got a boyfriend and was spending all her time with him, and Scorpius said why did he want to spend time with a Weasley anyway because everyone knew they were idiots, and Albus said "Hey!" and Scorpius said not him, he was a Potter, and Albus said only half a Potter and Scorpius said anyway the point was that it proved that Weasleys were idiots if one of them preferred some boyfriend's company over Albus'. Albus had smiled at that.

So clearly, talking to Scorpius about it was the right thing to do. Scorpius was the smart one, the Ravenclaw, the one who would provide the research and detail and clever spellwork behind Albus' plans. He would be rational about this. He would know what to do.

Albus decided to broach the subject one slow Sunday afternoon, when they were sitting lazily in Albus' dorm room. Scorpius was reading and Albus was checking his Muggle Studies homework against Scorpius', which wasn't really cheating if you were best friends and Scorpius would always be around to supply you with the facts you didn't know anyway. Albus looked up at Scorpius and felt suddenly nervous because he was feeling it again, with the way Scorpius was holding the book in one white hand and propping himself up on his elbow, the way his hair fell back against his neck when he tilted it like that and the flat line of his sloping chest beneath his shirt.

It passed. Albus took a breath.

"Hey, Scorpius," he said, "Listen, I have to talk to you."

Scorpius slanted his eyes towards him and lowered his book a fraction.

"Yeah?"

"There's just... this thing," Albus said, half-shrugging uncomfortably. "It's weird."

Scorpius glanced at his page number and put the book down beside him.

"What thing?"

"Er," Albus said. "I've just been having these, er, these moments of... appreciation."

Scorpius' eyebrows drew together in confusion.

"Appreciation?"

"Sort of," Albus said, beginning to wish he had found someone else to discuss this with after all. "Well, not really appreciation. More like... attraction."

"Attraction," Scorpius repeated, raising his eyebrows.

"Yes," Albus said. "To, er. You. It's bizarre, I know, but it's not all the time. Just occasionally."

"Er," Scorpius said, lifting his head and sitting up. "What?"

Albus felt his face heat up. Stupid Weasley genes.

"That's not really the right way to put it," he said. "It's just, you know, happens to everyone, sometimes you just have these moments of thinking your best friend is pretty and then it passes, right?"

"Uh," Scorpius said.

"Totally normal," Albus added for good measure, in case Scorpius hadn't gotten that point yet.

"Albus," Scorpius said. "Have you considered, you know, do you think you might be somewhat gay?"

"No," Albus said. "No, I already thought of that, but it doesn't happen with any other boys. And boys who are gay, they think more than one boy is attractive, don't they?"

"I'm not sure," Scorpius said, frowning.

"I really think it's just a friendship thing," Albus said. "You know, like we're such good friends that I can appreciate your prettiness."

"See, like that's a rather gay thing to say," Scorpius said. "So that's, you know, you could reconsider there."

"I'm pretty sure I'm not gay," Albus said.

"Huh," Scorpius said. He brushed his hair out of his face, which he did when he was concentrating. Albus loved his concentrating look, all serious and intelligent. It made Albus think he should develop eye problems so he could get intelligent-looking glasses. Just not the Harry Potter frames.

"Well," Scorpius said. "I guess it all depends, then."

Albus waited.

"Either you are experiencing the first stirrings of a homosexual crush on me, or you're just appreciating my manly beauty. And the only way to find out is to test it, right?"

"I," Albus started. "Test what?"

"Whether it's a crush or not. Look, we should keep this quiet. Meet me in the closet behind the fourth floor statue of the house elf wearing socks. Tonight. Midnight."

"What?" Albus said, but Scorpius was gathering his books and leaving.

*

The first time James got caught out after curfew, they had sent a letter home to his parents. Their mother had sent him a furious letter back, filled with phrases like "respecting the rules" and "creating a stable community". Their father had put his name at the bottom, and then a few days letter sent James a private secret letter with tips on how not to get caught.

Albus just put on his Invisibility Cloak and walked out.

He couldn't help feeling nervous, or at least uncertain. It was easy enough to slip out and get to the meeting point, but the thought of what was waiting for him, Scorpius' blond hair and pale skin and an enclosed closet and something nonspecific about gayness and boy bodies and, well, it all made him feel a little weak.

He reached the closet and tapped on the door, heart pounding in his chest. Scorpius opened the door, his lit wand in his hand. Albus always forgot that Scorpius was three inches taller than him until he did something that made him seem tall, like standing in front of Albus in a dark closet grinning with disarming confidence.

"Hi," Albus whispered, pulling off the Cloak. Scorpius pulled him inside the closet and shut the door, dropping the wand on the ground so it lit the whole space.

"You can talk at a normal volume. They don't patrol this wing of the fourth floor on Sundays," Scorpius said.

"How do you know?"

"I can never sleep," Scorpius said, "so I just started following people around at night and I made a schedule. Anyway, that's not the point."

"Wait. You've never been caught? You don't sleep?"

"That's not the point," Scorpius repeated. "Albus, the way I look at this, we've got to do it in a logical manner."

"Do what?"

"First I'll kiss you, and then we'll both rank our feelings on that, and then we'll move on from there."

"Wait—" Albus said but Scorpius reached up and brushed his cheek with one soft hand, and leaned in close.

Scorpius' hair brushed against his forehead, soft and fine. Albus was close enough that he could feel Scorpius' breath, hot and damp, and Scorpius was still looking at him through blond eyelashes. His hand was on Albus' cheek, which made Albus feel enclosed, and then Scorpius' grey eyes shut and he pressed his lips to Albus'. Something inside Albus spasmed.

It wasn't fair for this to feel so good, Albus had been kissed before, this was ridiculous. Scorpius' lips were slightly parted and the pressure of his fingertips on Albus' cheek increased ever so slightly, as if he couldn't help it.

Abruptly, Scorpius pulled back.

"So, what did you think?" he said.

Albus stared at him.

"Er," he said.

"I brought a chart," Scorpius said, leaning down for his bag and fishing through it.

"You kissed me," Albus said.

"I know that, I'm the one that did it," Scorpius said. He straightened, waving a paper. "Here! Look, this is the Hapfen-Schwartzheimer scale of sexual pleasure. You're meant to point to the face that best depicts your current feelings. Post-kiss."

"Can I sit down?" Albus said.

"Oh, sure, of course," Scorpius said. "Actually it might make things more convenient. For, you know, if this goes on."

"Goes on to _where_?"

"Will you pick a face?"

Albus sat down.

"You have to be honest," Scorpius said, pushing the paper towards him.

"That one," Albus said, pointing.

Scorpius looked at his choice.

"Oh," he said, sounding slightly disappointed. "Okay. Well. That's what I felt too."

There was silence. Scorpius sat.

"Really, only a _four_?" Scorpius said.

"I thought you said that's what you felt too," Albus said.

"Oh no, it was," Scorpius said. "Maybe a three, even. Just, you know, you're the maybe-gay one. I thought it might be more for you."

"Well, it wasn't," Albus said.

"Maybe we should try again," Scorpius said. "You're supposed to do multiple trials. It gives you more accurate results."

"Alright," Albus said.

Scorpius placed his hands on Albus' shoulders and kissed him again, hard. Albus quickly lost the thread of what was happening, of who was doing what, and everything was warmth and Scorpius' tongue against his and Scorpius' hands on his shoulders and neck. Scorpius' teeth were biting down on his lower lip and Albus pulled Scorpius against him and somehow they fell back against the wall, limbs entangled. Albus twisted one hand into Scorpius' blond hair, tugging slightly. Scorpius slid his hand down from Albus' shoulder and slipped it just inside Albus' shirt, gripping his side, and Albus lost the ability to think because Scorpius' hand was stunningly close to the waistband of his trousers.

Scorpius broke the kiss and extracted himself from Albus delicately.

"How was that?" he said.

Albus felt like whining, like a dog locked outside in the rain.

"That was," he said.

He tried again. "It was. It."

"The chart!" Scorpius said, pulling it out from where it was trapped under Albus' leg.

Albus pointed.

Scorpius's face looked like a window that had been shattered.

"A _two_?" he said.

"I'm sorry," Albus said. "I think we're just meant to be friends. Isn't that what you felt?"

"Oh," Scorpius said, "yeah. Yes. Two. Exactly."

He folded the chart slowly, running his finger deliberately over every crease.

"I guess I'll just put this away, then," he said.

"Yeah," Albus said.

Scorpius looked up.

"Unless those two times were just weird anomalies," he said. "I mean, you did say that the being attracted to me is only at some moments, right? Maybe we just haven't caught any of those moments."

"You think we should try again?" Albus said.

"Sure," Scorpius said. "I mean, if you're up for it."

Five minutes later Albus was pressed against the floorboards, shirtless, Scorpius on top of him. Scorpius was trailing kisses from the corner of his mouth down to his neck. Albus arched his head back, his breath hitching as Scorpius gently bit down. He slid his hands up under Scorpius' shirt and spread them against Scorpius' smooth back. He pressed his body up against Scorpius' and Scorpius hissed against his neck, a short, helpless sound. Scorpius raised his head and Albus pulled him closer for another kiss. Albus tugged upward at Scorpius' shirt and Scorpius sat up, straddling Albus' hips, to tear it off. He fell against Albus again and Albus was intoxicated by the amount of his skin that was touching Scorpius', the amount of warm weight pressing against his entire body.

Then Scorpius rolled off him.

"So," he said, sitting up and gasping for air. "So, how—how would you rate that?"

Albus took a moment to reassemble his brain.

"I, uh," he said, scrambling up to a sitting position. "Show... show me the chart again?"

Scorpius looked around.

"I don't know where..."

"There," Albus said, pointing to the paper crumpled underneath Scorpius. Scorpius pulled it out and smoothed it against the ground.

"I'd say about a five," Albus said.

Scorpius was quiet for a moment, biting his lip hard.

"A five," he repeated flatly.

"Yeah," Albus said. "But hey, these readings are pretty inconsistent, right? I think we might need a lot more testing."

**Author's Note:**

> The Hapfen-Schwartzheimer scale of sexual pleasure is based on the Wong-Baker FACES Pain Rating Scale.


End file.
